


Lost

by CorrineWrites



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: (ever trek fic needs that right?), Canon Death Mention, Casual Firefly Reference, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Survivor Guilt, bones angrily caring, injury mention, it's more passively allowing oneself to come to harm because emotions, maybe???, nothing severe, scotty isn't sure and neither am i
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8196037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorrineWrites/pseuds/CorrineWrites
Summary: Another day, another time McCoy find Scotty in his medbay. Only this time the Engineer opens up about what's going on with him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> We rewatched Into Darkness a little while ago, and it left me with a lot of feelings about what Scotty did and didn't do, and how he'd feel about it all. And obviously the film didn't cover anyone's massive amounts of ptsd and survivor guilt, so this is a little bit of that.  
> Thanks again to tumblr user and lovely Scot txf-tarras for a little help with dialogue.

“So, what is it today?” Scotty flinched from his musings as Doctor McCoy entered the private room the engineer had been shown to. Not even the Captain got private rooms unless he was severely injured or was about to get a thorough bollocking from his Chief Medical Officer; as Scotty's own injury was fairly minor, he figured he was due the latter.

“Scorched retinas? Twenty foot fall? Stab yourself with a screwdriver? Severe burns, broken leg, concussion? How about a good old-fashioned electric shock?” The doctor gave him a sharp look. “We're building up quite a menu here.”

“It's no' been that bad...” Scotty muttered, holding up his left arm, where blood was seeping through a makeshift bandage of – _good gods, was that an oily rag?!_

“Oh yeah?” McCoy broke himself free of his stunned horror and began unwrapping and cleaning the wound. “I get that engineering can be a risky job, but this is something else. If I didn't know better I'd be thinking you were sweet on me.”

“Now Doc, ye know my heart belongs to this great lady!” Scotty nodded, his joviality overshadowed by clear exhaustion as he indicated the Enterprise, such as it was. The incident with Kahn had left the ship severely damaged, and they were currently docked undertaking massive repairs. McCoy would have liked to have been enjoying a little shore leave, but the Engineering department was hard at work repairing the old girl, and accidents would keep on happening. Especially to the man sat in from of him, it seemed.

“Yeah, and if only that were the whole problem...” He murmured, turning away for a hypo and the dermal regenerator.

“By the way,” he added as he worked. “If you don't trust your staff, you should get them reassigned.”

“Eh?” Scotty's face scrunched in confusion.

“Far as I can reckon, you've been working damn near round the clock, taking over every job you can find from rebuilding the core to soldering circuit boards, barely letting anyone else program a spin cycle let alone dilithium crystals or whatever the hell else.” He grumbled, with the special kind of annoyance reserved for those he cared about. “So. If you don't trust your staff to do their damn job-”

“It's no' about that.” Scotty interrupted, looking away uncomfortably.

“No, it's not. It's about Jim.” McCoy stared at him a moment before he went on. “What is it with everyone on this floating hunk of-” He caught himself as Scotty glared at him. “-On this _ship_ , always wanting to be big damn heroes. Jim died in front of you, saving the ship, and now you wanna make it up getting yourself killed because you think it ought to have been you?”

“Should it no' ha' been? This is _my_ ship. And it's Jim's too, I know tha', but...” He sighed. “I didnae build her but she's mine now, and... I couldnae save her. I didnae even try, it... Jim did it. It's ma warp core, I shoulda stopped him. He shouldnae have gone in ma place.”

“Jim wasn't your fault. If I hadn't have brought him back... it woulda hurt like hell, but it wouldn't have been my fault either. Damn fool kid's always gotta show off.”

Scotty hung his head for a moment. “Me or him, it shouldnae be tha rest o' them! Ye ken as well as I tha casualties we had, I cannae risk any more! Every time something sparks I think it's gonnae go, gonnae blow some poor sod's hand or face or whatever off, I cannae be responsible fer any more!” He didn't tell McCoy that this fear was the only reason he was working at all. Was the only reason he was sober. Had been the one thing driving him to keep going, keep working on a ship filled with the ghosts of his friends.

McCoy probably already knew.

“And what exactly makes you think you were responsible?”

“They're ma-!”

“They were there because they had a job to do. We all got our jobs to do, they did theirs, and Jim did his. And God dammit if I didn't have to do mine too.” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Look, I know what it's like to feel responsible for people's deaths. They all hurt. Every last damned one of them. It'll fade. Just pray you don't have any more on you.”

“I killed someone!” Scotty blurted out, with the urgency of a man spitting out words he'd spent days choking on.

“ _I told you,_ what happened to Jim wasn't-”

“No' Jim! I mean Jim didnae help but...” He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing down tears. “Back on tha Vengeance, I killed someone. There was a... a guard in tha hanger, I had tae open tha airlock fer Jim and... he wasnae holding on.”

He raised his brimming eyes to McCoy, desperate and heartbroken. “I killed someone.”

McCoy regarded him for a long moment. Scotty had been in the medbay a lot recently, and while an increased workload of an already hazardous job would do that, if he put the frequent injuries together with the man's obvious guilt, it brought him to a pretty grim suspicion. “So all this is what, penance?”

“Nae it's... I dunno.” He shrugged hopelessly.

“If you hadn't done it?” Scotty looked up at him questioningly, so McCoy clarified. “If you hadn't opened the airlock, then what?”

The other man shrugged again, not meeting his gaze. McCoy moved to perch next to him on the biobed. “Jim would be doing his best bug-on-a-windscreen impression, and we wouldn't even still be here to know about it. Ok, you killed someone. But you did the right thing. Just, sometimes the right thing sucks.”

Scotty chuckled mirthlessly. “Aye, ye got that right.”

“Scotty,” He turned his head to see McCoy staring at him. “We'd all be dead if it weren't for you. Twice over. So I for one am damned grateful.”

They sat quietly together for a few moments more before the doctor stood up, tapping at his PADD. “You been to see the counsellors?”

“There's been so much t-”

“See one. And I'm making a strong recommendation,” he looked the older man in the eye to make it clear that anyone ignoring this recommendation would find themselves on the wrong end of an unfavourable hypo. “That you go back to quarters and get some rest.”

Scotty opened his mouth to respond, but McCoy got in first. “I'm not signing you off duty, or even restricting your hours. I know it won't do you any good not to be working, you're as bad as Jim. And frankly I don't need you hanging around here taking up space. But do yourself a favour and take it easy, ok? And let your crew do their job. They lost people too.”

Scotty heaved a weary sigh, nodding. “Aye.”

Before he could leave, McCoy placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly as his hazel eyes met the engineer's own. “Scotty.”

His own burden shared if not halved, Scotty looked properly at the doctor's face. For someone who habitually complained about others overworking themselves, Scotty couldn't remember McCoy not being there to treat him during his recent spate of injuries. He knew the doctor had been overseeing treatment for all the other injured crew, not to mention bringing the captain back from the dead and restoring him to full health. Beyond his usual mask of grouchiness Scotty could see the doctor's own exhaustion, hurt, worry.

A few moments passed, comforts and assurances passing silently between them – _it'll be ok. You're not on your own. You need to look after yourself. It'll be ok. -_ before Scotty pulled McCoy into a tight hug. “Thanks, Len.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Does the 23rd century still have spin cycles? Probably not, but I liked the line.


End file.
